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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22974253">The Introduction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom'>boredom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Crowley and Queen (A Friendship to end all Friendships!) [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Pining Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:20:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22974253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Freddie has been friends with Crowley for awhile now and wants to introduce him to the band. He's more than a little anxious about this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Crowley and Queen (A Friendship to end all Friendships!) [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What are timelines? Can I get a wahoo?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Freddie Mercury, the greatest rock legend of all time, master songwriter, pianist, and vocalist, modern musician and a man so talented, he could turn just about any song into gold, was nervous. </p><p>You see, he had a friend. This friend was dramatic, occasionally wore women's clothing, hated gloomy Shakespeare plays and seemed very into the “goth” aesthetic. Freddie felt, for the first time, someone truly understood him. </p><p>He loved his friends and family. Make no mistake. But Crowley seemed to get him on a deeper level. It was nice, really. He felt like he didn’t have to pretend in front of Crowley. He didn’t have to be confident or suave or in control. He could fully and truly be himself. However, there was one big catch. </p><p>Brian, John, and Roger had yet to meet him. </p><p>They knew he had friends. It’d be silly if he only ever hung out with his bandmates, but there was something comforting in keeping Crowley hidden away. What if they didn’t like him? What if he didn’t like them? What if they liked Crowley more than him? What if Crowley liked them more than him? </p><p>Oh, anxiety was not fun. The possibilities, the worst possibilities, never seemed to go away. </p><p>And yet, he desperately wanted to introduce his friend to his family. It would almost be like a test. A giant sign plastered over Crowley that screamed “this is what you signed up for. Are you scared? Are you disgusted? Do I need to change to be with you?” </p><p>It killed him. It scared him. Hiding would destroy him. He knew it. Showing only had the potential to destroy him. Clearly, showing was the better option. But still, for the first time in his life he felt like he was worth something. And what would happen if they left him? As much as he loved Crowley, the man seemed to be fighting his own demons. </p><p>Still. He couldn’t hide forever. It wasn’t fair. He needed to rip off the Band-Aid and take whatever happened like a man. </p><p>They were at the studio. A nice, neutral place. They had just finished recording a song. A nice, relaxing day. No one was overworked or overtired. A nice, calm feeling. Perfect. This was possibly the best way to introduce your strange, demon-obsessed friend to the rest of the band and ensure they weren’t horrified by the company he kept. </p><p>“You’re friend’s coming by, right?” Roger asked. </p><p>“Yeah, probably,” he said, trying to sound calm and relaxed. If only his knee would quit bouncing. “He’s a bit strange, so, be prepared.” </p><p>“Freddie, we are around you all the time.” Brian sighed. “If he’s anything like you, we’ll be able to handle it.” </p><p>Okay, so, that was… promising. He still had visions of disaster playing out in his head on an endless loop. </p><p>There was a screech outside. </p><p>“Oh, he’s here.” Freddie said, his knee now bouncing a mile a minute. </p><p>“You can tell from that?” John said. “Sounded like an accident to me.” </p><p>“No, he’s just terrible at driving.” </p><p>The door flung open. “Freddie! I need to talk to you.” Crowley sauntered in, his hips swinging so much, Freddie was afraid he’d fall over. </p><p>“Crowley, glad you could make it. This is John, Brian, and Roger.” </p><p>They waved to him. </p><p>Crowley waved back. “Hi guys.” He grabbed Freddie’s hands and completely ignored the guys. “I was watching Aziraphale from that sex shop that’s across the way and he sold a book.” </p><p>Fuck, this was not the introduction he had been hoping for. Normally, Crowley’s incessant pining made for good musical inspiration. Now it was going to make him seem like a freak. <br/>“He runs a bookshop?” Freddy was desperately trying to think of a way to regain control of the situation. </p><p>“That doesn’t mean he sells books! It was one of his D.H. Lawrences. Now, those aren’t his favorites but you do you think <em>Lady Chatelerly’s Lover</em> is a sign?”</p><p>“A sign for what, exactly?” Roger asked.</p><p>Crowley sighed dramatically and threw himself back on the couch, almost as if he were a woman fainting in one of those old Victorian novels. “I don’t know. I’m not someone who deals in metaphors and symbolism. Isn’t that what you guys do?” </p><p>“It’s not like <em>Killer Queen</em> is Shakespeare.” Brian said. </p><p>“Crowley,” Freddie said, “I don’t think Aziraphale is trying to send you some message of undying love by selling certain books in his bookshop. I think he’s just, you know, doing his job?” </p><p>Crowley stared at them. Then he shrugged and pulled a bottle of wine out of literally nowhere and popped the cork out with his teeth. “Maybe you’re right. But he told me that I go too fast for him and I still don’t know what that means.” </p><p>“Well,” John sighed and patted his leg. “It means that you need to slow down your pursuit of him. Too much too soon can be overwhelming for some people. The fact that he did communicate with you means that he’s not saying no.” </p><p>“Soft no is not the same as a hard no,” Brian added. “More communication is always better.” </p><p>Crowley nodded. “Thanks guys. Wine?” He held the bottle out. </p><p>“Yeah, sure, I think we’ve got some cups around here.” Roger went off to find them. </p><p>“Holy shit!” Brian grabbed the bottle. “This is a Chateau Mouton Rothschild. This thing is costs more than my car!” </p><p>Crowley nodded and took a long drink from the bottle. “Yeah.”</p><p>“How did you afford that?” John asked. </p><p>“Politicians.” </p><p>“So, like, you work for politicians?” </p><p>“No, it was a thank you gift from my employer for tempting a bigwig and dooming his eternal soul to the depths of Hell to be tortured for all eternity by the legions of the damned.” </p><p>“Oh, so you’re a lawyer,” Roger said, returning with cups for them. </p><p>Now that Freddie thought about it, he wasn’t really sure what Crowley did for a living. It seemed like pining after Aziraphale was his full-time job. Still, he didn’t correct them. This meeting was going better than he could have hoped, despite Crowley’s drama. </p><p>“How’d you two meet?” Brian asked. </p><p>“Oh, he was shit-faced in a bar and crying about his best friend,” Freddie said. Might as well show them everything. If Crowley hadn’t scared them off yet, he was starting to think nothing would.</p><p>“I was not crying.” Crowley snarled. “I was artfully expressing my woes.”</p><p>“You drank at least three full bottles of scotch and were cradling a tartan thermos.” </p><p>“Not the weirdest way to meet someone.” John took a sip of the wine, made a face, and then spit it back out. “Why is it so disgusting if it’s so expensive.”</p><p>Brian shrugged. “Rich people like disgusting foodstuffs. Makes them feel fancy.” </p><p>“Yeah, pate is the worst!” Roger said. “And what they do to those poor geese to get it. I’ll just stick with fish and chips. Thanks.” </p><p>“Aziraphale likes to eat.” Crowley sighed.</p><p>“I know, darling.” </p><p>“We had oysters once.” </p><p>“I know, darling.”</p><p>“He invited me.” </p><p>“I know, darling.”</p><p>“He also took me out for crepes.”</p><p>“I know, darling.”</p><p>“You really think the book didn’t mean anything?” Crowley asked.</p><p>Freddie sighed. “No. I think he was just doing his job.” </p><p>Brian clapped Freddie on the shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you actually found someone who is weirder than you are. That, my friend, is an amazing feat.” <br/>He couldn’t help but smile. Despite his fears, his friends seemed to accept Crowley, drama and all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know nothing about fancy wine, but Google told me that was expensive. Like, 33,000 expensive.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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